stay here with me
by Val-Creative
Summary: Will Byers died in the quarry. The hardest part is returning.


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Will Byers died.

The town of Hawkins mourned. They all filed in, surrounding Will's casket outside, because he was young, and because it had been the most exciting thing to happen in a long time. Big name reporters came and went. And then, The Rising happened.

Everyone who died in the past ten years… they came back. _Feral._ Needing to kill and consume human flesh.

Will came back too, discovered by his mom and brother and Nancy Wheeler. They tied him down to a cabin-bed until government officials took him. He hasn't seen anyone familiar in the past six months. Will hasn't felt like himself either.

It didn't go on forever. And most of the undead were destroyed, except the ones who went into rehabilitation centers.

Nana — Mike Wheeler's grandma — successfully reversed her feral state, able to talk like herself again. Retained her memories. She died of an illness a while back. She looks like the same Nana just with ghastly pale skin and white eyes. They give all of the PDS sufferers a box of coverup mousse to make their skin tone more healthy, and contacts for their eyes. Will choose brown over blue.

Will Byers _died_ in the quarry when his bike-light went out. He drowned facefirst in the water after hitting his head. The evidence being a large, still stitched-up scar right above Will's right ear. They advise him to keep it stitched so nobody sees the black rot.

He leaves the facility and doctors after a while, mumbling apologies to his mom as she bawls, hugging him so fiercely. Joyce never complains, injecting Will as instructed — with the gigantic, metal syringe of Neurotriptyline to keep him docile and human again. Will gets flashbacks sometimes.

_A bloody, gory rat half-chewed in Will's hands. Jennifer Hayes's terrified face and how she screamed._

The phone doesn't stop ringing. Journalists, religious cultists and the Living who threaten to run Will out of Hawkins.

Mr. Clarke doesn't tolerate any of the other kids calling Will 'a rotter' or 'zombie boy' — and neither does Will's friends. "We got you back," Mike tells him softly, pushing a hand over Will's fingers trembling. The _spasms_ worsening. "That's a good thing."

Troy bullies Mike for protecting Will. He shoves him from behind, howling laughter when Mike falls and cuts open his chin on a rock.

Will doesn't want to admit it — but something _Rises_ in him then, furious and loathsome, making Will's throat growl out deep, monstrous. He wants to — Will _really_ wants to — but, Troy pisses himself and hightails it. Hopper doesn't let Troy's mom press charges when she drags her son to the station, no matter what her biases are against Partially Deceased Syndrome sufferers.

She and many others supported the Human Volunteer Force. Codenamed the Hawkins Volunteer Force locally.

_HVF._

"Maybe they're right," Will says dully. He sketches himself with green eyes, wearing a robe and wizard's hat. Fifteen like Mike instead of forever twelve years old. Magic didn't bring Will back to life. Or anyone else. The pits of Hell did. "I'm a monster."

"No," Mike insists, smiling so widely and reassuring, and Will's insides feel tight.

He smiles like this even when Will doesn't wear the flesh-colored mousse or leaves out his contacts. Mike says it doesn't look like him.

"They are. They're the ones acting like monsters—Will?" He stares as Will cries out, shuddering, his white eyes bulging. "Will! _Will_!" Mike calls for help, as the other boy scrambles to grasp his own chest through his polo-shirt. He feels Mike's hot hands on him, and Will's heart throbbing in agony. _Throbbing_.

_Living_.

His regenerated cells feel. And, Mike _feels_… like Heaven.

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_Stranger Things isn't mine. Requested by Jimmy (FFN): "Byeler and ITF AU." Not gonna lie,,,,,,,,,,,, I've been thinking about an AU for it and for Byeler! I'm glad someone else is thinking the same thing! IT FITS. IT DOES. Please enjoy and take your vitamins and drink your water and leave a comment if you got a second!  
_


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